


Past and Present

by Dlxm950, Tsargus (Dlxm950)



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Major character death - Freeform, Multi, Past Character Death, Remembrance, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:01:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlxm950/pseuds/Dlxm950, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dlxm950/pseuds/Tsargus
Summary: Anduin had been fighting for so long. Decades of war and conflict, first between the Alliance and Horde, and now between the Light and Void. They have lost so many: friends, family, the cost of war inumerable.Sylvanas has lost so much. Her home, her sisters, her family, to wars with the Horde and now to the Light and Void.Today they remember.
Relationships: Alexstrasza/Alleria Windrunner (Implied), Jaina Proudmoore/Sylvanas Windrunner, Lorna Crowley/Tess Greymane
Comments: 7
Kudos: 50





	Past and Present

**Author's Note:**

> This just came to mind as I was thinking on remeberance day.

“I am at a loss of what to do Prophet. The void and the light war above us, their conflicts raging across the universe, Azeroth crumbles beneath their tides of war.” Anduin said with long suffering sigh. 

The gravestone in front of him did not reply, not that he expected it too, but oh how he longed for the comfort of his teacher. To hear his kind words and see his welcoming smile. 

“Sylvanas and I are all that remain from before the war.” Anduin said as he choked up. His elderly frame falling against the cold stone as his watery gaze turned to the other gravestones. 

Eighteen met his gaze. Each inscribed with their own message to the fallen. Baine, Thrall, Alleria, Tyrande...so many allies, friends. 

Gone. 

Beyond them thousands more decorated the hill sides. An uncountable loss from which Azeroth would never recover. 

In that moment he truly felt his age. The weight of time pressed against his shoulders as the mantle of leadership threatened to pull him beneath the tide. Yet as he wallowed in his self pity he could hear something. 

A faint song drifted into his ear like silk. A sorrowful melody that echoed of anguish and loss. Turning his head he saw Sylvanas standing before a grave, her shoulders shaking slightly as she sung, her voice wavering as she poured a glass of wine into the soil. 

It seemed strange, this Sylvanas. In his youth he had seen her as nothing more than another crazed Horde leader using her people towards her own end. Yet as they had been forced to work together, he began to see another side of her. The eternal protector, the guardian of her people, a warrior sworn the the protection of all she held dear. 

Though his anger for her destruction of Stormwind had never fully abated, even now he could feel it festering in his heart, he could look past it. 

So lost in his thoughts he failed to notice the song ending. He nearly had a heart attack as one of Sylvanas cold hands came to rest on his shoulder. 

She didn’t speak, she hardly did anymore, not since…well-even the undead could feel grief.  Even with that in mind the words poured from his lips before he could stop them.

“How do you do it?” He whispered.

He could feel her hand tense at his words before slowly relaxing. 

“Do what? Little lion.” She responded, her voice hoarse from a lack of use. 

That name, Little Lion, once used in mockery now held a comfort to it. An informal title sacred only for moments like this. Yet another thing that had changed.

“Move forward.” He said as he rose to his feet.

She didn’t respond at first. Rather she stepped up beside him as they walked towards the farthest grave on the left. It was shaped in a circle divided in four, at each ninety degree angle one of the four elements was represented. A small inscription was carved into the center.

_ Here lies Thrall _

_ May he walk through the fields of Bastion in peace and Virtue _

Gently Anduin pulled the reforged doom hammer from his back and lay it against the head stone and murmured a small prayer for his soul. As he did so Sylvanas took one of the pouches from her belt and emptied it into the ground. The smell of Orchish beer rising from the soil.

They stood there for a moment before Sylvanas finally responded. 

“I don’t suppose I ever did.” She told him as she drew an Elven rune in the alcohol soaked dirt. “I have spent so much of my undeath fighting. First against the Lich King and then the Alliance, doing everything in my power to make sure that I would be prepared for this conflict.” 

They moved onto the next tombstone as she spoke. Gelbins likeness carved from stone greeting them with one of his manic smiles. 

_ Here lies Gelbin Mekkatorque _

_ May he find aid those in the afterlife with his inventions as they have aided us _

“Yet I never truly moved on, so to speak, I just continued forward. Burying all my emotions or pushing them onto others.” She finished as she emptied a small pouch of Gnomish beer into the ground and carved the same symbol as before.

Anduin didn’t know how to respond to that. This was a longer conversation than they had held in quite some time. It seemed strange to think that they had been fighting together for decades now and knew so little of each other.

“I know the feeling.” He told her as they moved on.

_ Here lies Tyrande Whisperwind _

_ May the forests of Ashenvale bring her the peace she has lost in this world _

“For so many years now we have been fighting, the light and the void using us like pawns in a game of chess across the universe, and only now, so many years after their deaths, am I truly honouring them as I should have been.” He finished as he lay a wreath of owl feathers from the hook at the top.

They remained in silence for the next while. Each taking their turn to honour the fallen with drink or token.

It was only when they reached her sisters graves that Sylvanas did anything different. 

Allerias grave was first. It was made from white Quel'thalian marble and carved in the shape of the sun with the symbol of the red dragon flight front and center. Just beneath it sat the inscription.

_ Here lies Alleria Windrunner _

_ Beloved mother, wife, and sister. May she find her peace with our forefathers beyond the voids reach _

At her eldest sisters grave Sylvanas did as she had before. Emptying a pouch of Quel'thalan red into the soil and carving a rune, but paused before moving on. Gently she pulled a small bowl from her bag and began to fill it with food. She whispered something in Thalassian and Anduin watched in surprise as the food disappeared and the soil dried. 

The next grave was Vereesas. It was white, blue and to shaped like the sun. Yet while Alleria's had been decorated with symbols of the red dragon flight Vereesa's was covered in the symbols of Dalaran with the crest of the silver covenant in the middle. Beneath that, just like Allerias, sat an inscription.

_ Here lies Vereesa Windrunner _

_ Beloved mother, wife, and sister. May she reunite in the afterlife with all those she has lost _

Just as before Sylvanas pulled out a bowl and spoke her prayer. The food and drink fading away with a soft golden glow.

Next came Genn’s grave. Here it was Sylvanas turn to step back as Anduin honoured his mentor and friend. 

_ Here lies Genn Greymane _

_ May he at last find peace within himself in the fields of eternity _

Anduin kneeled before the grave and called upon the powers of the light. The golden power igniting his armour with a magnificent gleam as he used it to clean the grave. Once he was done he began to speak.

“It has been such a long time my friend. I feel as though you would have had a thousand heart attacks with all that has happened since your passing.” He could hear Sylvanas give a snort behind him and it brought a small smile to his face as he continued. “Lorna and Tess have been trying to get me to abdicate and have been treated to the classic Wrynn stubbornness you always complained to me about my father.” He chuckled lightly as a memory of his father and Genn arguing over breakfast entered his mind. “Your grandchildren have grown so much over the years. Their nearly taller than me!” He said as a few tears began to fall from his eyes. “I miss you Genn. I miss all of you, more than you could ever know.” He whispered.

He stayed their, tears falling and breathing laboured, yet he felt no judgment from the undead elf behind him. In fact, just as he turned to face her, he found himself pulled into a deep embrace. 

“He would be proud of you, they all would.” Sylvanas whispered in a comforting tone.

He didn’t know how to respond so he didn’t. Choosing instead to enjoy the rare moment of comfort offered. 

Once he had recovered the two of them began the trek back to the road. Back to the war.

But as they passed it he paused. The last grave in the line was carved into the shape of an anchor. Its deep blue stone polished and neat as an empty bowl and bottle lay in front of it. 

_ Here lies Jaina Proudmoore _

_ Beloved wife and daughter. May she finally rest, free from the burdens of the past. _

In the ground the rune Sylvanas had been carving into the dirt of all the others lay neatly but below it sat another smaller one. It was far from perfect, the lines shaky and uneven, the ground around it slightly damp. He new little Thalassian but this he could read.

_ I miss you. _

He turned to look at Sylvanas and found her gazing at it, a look of deep sadness etched into her face. She was twisting a deep blue band on her ring finger as she did so. 

Gently, so as not to spook her, he lay a hand atop her shoulder. 

She looked to him in surprise before it fell into one of understanding. 

They each took a breath before continuing towards the road. His heart, while not healed, felt better than it had in years. As they left the cemetery his shoulders were relaxed and his head high. Beside him Sylvanas looked like the Warchief of old. Her shoulders broad and her strides purposeful. 

They entered the carriage that awaited and gave one last look towards the cemetery. The setting sun creating a beautiful mosaic of color behind the graves. Each gleaming brightly as they caught the light. 

The leaders and their people standing in eternal vigilance over their home. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed. As always feel free to leave a comment, constructive criticism is always welcome, just try and keep it respectful.


End file.
